Open Ether
by Finnhart
Summary: COMPLETE. Twoshot. For years Seto has been paying men to die for him. It is not until he lies half dead in the road that he begins to realise this and what it actually means to him. SetoxRoland Shōnenai. Please read & review. Revised 5 August 2008.
1. Enter

**Author's Note: **Originally posted 1 December 2007. 5 August 2008 – revised version. I've only bulked up and edited some passages of description and general spelling and grammar mistakes and continuity errors to make for a better and more mature piece. If you've read this before and are reading it again you probably won't notice any differences.

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim

**Warnings:** Swearing.

**Summary:** _For years Seto has been paying men to die for him. It is not until he lies half dead in the road that he begins to realise this and what it actually means to him. _

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Enter**

A foul stench bunged Seto's nostrils, crusting around the edges and oozing slowly from any place where the congealed blood had cracked. The taste was thick in his mouth, the copper tang everyone knew well but most were unused to. A guttural choke bubbled from his clogged lips.

'_Help…'_

His please was pathetic. Even though he had mustered every ounce of energy to make it a bone-shattering scream all he had heard was a wretched murmur. He whimpered and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying desperately to block out the midnight chill of the wet tarmac under his crooked back and the buttercup glow of the fat, low moon. He felt strange that its light shone so happily on a night which had brought him nothing but terror and doubt.

Seto could hear the sounds of the tall grass up either side of the road rustling and ancient camphor trees creaking. The occasional nocturnal creature skittered loudly, making him jump and to his side he saw a tousled tanuki scurry across the road nearby, a fat salamander hanging from its mouth. He was temporarily absorbed by the sight until the chirp of a nearby cricket brought him back to his senses. The sound was enough to drown the listless thud of his heavy, breaking heart. He shuddered sporadically, twisted arms curled over his weeping chest, fingers too weak to stem the blood flow coming from the puncture in his stomach.

The tanuki stared at him before stooping in the road to devour its meal. Seto moaned louder, tears slipping from his weary eyes.

_No one will come,_ he thought miserably. _I'm going to die in the middle of nowhere on a cold road with only a tanuki, a cricket and a streetlamp for company. No one will come._

A noise came from the distance. Seto held his breath for a moment, trying to identify what it was. A low rumbling, pitching up to a throbbing hum as it drew closer. Lights flared to Seto's right, heading up the road towards him at a steady rate. His head lolled over to watch it coming, some blood dribbling from his ear into his damp, straggly hair. The headlights were an eye-stabbing bright blue, coming closer and closer. The tanuki bolted.

The sleek car was going slowly now and Seto managed to raise his bent arm towards it, fingers strumming the frozen air as if he were trying to catch hold of the blue lights. It rolled to a stop before him; a few more inches and Seto could have laid a finger on the number plate: _K4IBA1_

A car door slammed dully. Wet footsteps hurried around the vehicle towards him, sending up clouds of mist. A pair of shiny black shoes obstructed Seto's vision. He looked skyward and saw a bloodied face leaning over him, half cast in the bright limo lights and half pitched in darkness. The man was wearing a broken pair of shades; both lenses had been cracked and spilt. Seto spluttered thickly, breathing suddenly seemed more challenging. The man's mint green eyes revealed a piercing look of worry and shock. Seto felt another tear escape, this time a tear of relief.

'Roland…'

* * *

_Seto and four of his men stood under the Romanesque portico of the address they had been given. Seto, with his steel suitcase in his hand, was fully prepared to shoot down the new competition that had arranged for the two of them to meet for a discussion over dinner at 'his place'. Seto didn't like the sound of it, and insisted that the dinner and discussion was to be had in the vicinity of Domino at least, but the man had chuckled and asked if Seto was afraid of a little trip to the countryside. Infuriated by this insolence Seto had agreed to the proposition, and here he was, waiting for a butler or guard to welcome them into the large, ivy-clad country manor. _

_No one had come to the door. Seto was flanked by faithful Roland and a newer guard called Campion, Roland's so called 'protégé'. The other two, whose names Seto couldn't remember, stood shoulder to shoulder before him, blocking him from the door, just in case a crazy assassin were to burst through. Roland leant over to murmur something in his ear. Seto inclined his head to hear him better._

'_Sir, I don't like the look of this…' _

_Seto merely inclined his head a little. The windows were all dark, the large pond in the vast front lawn was stagnant and choked with slimy reeds and there wasn't a sign of any vehicles having been parked here recently apart from the K4IBA1 limo. Campion suggested they should investigate and even suggested that this could be a trap to which Seto snorted. Roland looked a little embarrassed. _

'_You picked a padawan with a ripe imagination I see,' he commented snidely. Roland bowed his head abashedly, while Campion frowned behind his shades and Seto inwardly kicked himself for the Star Wars reference, cheeks pinking slightly. One of his men who he referred to as Suit Number One turned to him, his thick eyebrows clearly frowning even behind his shades. _

'_Sir, I agree with Campion, this is definitely not right.'_

_Seto gazed at him, blinking. For Suit Number One this was nothing short of outspoken. Perhaps something really was crooked about the situation. Suit Number Two, the one with funny sideburns, also voiced that he thought they should investigate. Seto squared his shoulders, calculating the circumstances. The manor seemed abandoned; he couldn't understand why his guards thought they should investigate. Then again, it was their job to protect him and deal with these sorts of things. _

'_Very well, you two head on in and take a look.' _

_Suits Number One and Two nodded in unison, removed their shades, drew their firearms and prepared to enter the manor. Suit One, the bulkier of the two, smartly kicked the door down with one fell strike. Seto braced himself for security alarms, but none sounded. Edging carefully, Suits One and Two entered the inner gloom. _

_Seto watched them and then stepped over the threshold, peering around. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he whirled around. _

_Roland drew back as though licked by white fire. Seto glared at him._

'_Perhaps we should wait by the limo, sir?'_

_Seto nodded, his lips pursed in restraint. His guards should never touch him. He swept elegantly down the stone steps and crunched over the gravel towards his limo, which had been parked around the side of the manor. Roland and Campion followed closely. Upon reaching the vehicle Seto got inside, his legs hooked over the edge of the open door, elbows leaning on the steel suitcase in his lap. _

'_This is so fucking pointless,' he muttered agitatedly._

_Fifteen minutes passed. Seto was slouching as he gazed absentmindedly at Campion's smart, polished shoes. This new guard was fairly young, probably only a few years older than himself and still had a lot of creases which needed ironing out. He was sure Roland would take care of that, but right now the man's incessant pacing over the noisy gravel was beginning to grate on his brain._

'_Campion!' he snarled. 'Stand still!'_

'_But sir,' Campion started. 'A quarter of an hour has passed, they've not yet returned…' _

'_Well it's a pretty big fucking house isn't it, you idiot.' _

_Roland stepped forward. 'Sir I agree with Campion, they really should not be taking this long.' _

_Seto sighed, noticeably vexed. What was wrong with his men today? _

'_Fine!' he barked. 'We'll head back to the manor and get them to come out – god, everyone's being so fucking difficult today…'_

_Campion and Roland exchanged glances as their boss marched back to the portico before falling into a synchronised step behind him. _

* * *

A light drizzle began to float down through the darkness, stinging Seto's gritty eyes. Roland leant in closer, his large, veined hand brushing delicately over his master's bruised and bleeding face.

'Mr Kaiba… sir…'

Roland's voice was a sandpaper rasp. He coughed a little and spat a mouthful of blood onto the road beside him. He turned back, now fully slumped on his knees beside Seto, not caring that his trousers became sodden. They were already caked with dirt and blood. He leant over his master again, taking in everything that he could. Seto raised his hand, fingers strumming the nothingness once more in an obvious request for something.

Seto found that lifting his arm was a strenuous effort, but when he let it drop it didn't hit the ground. Roland had grasped his fingers, squeezing them gently. Seto stared, groggy and bemused. He had never noticed that Roland had bigger hands than him. After all, why would he? He gazed dumbly at the older hand encased around his own, with all its weathered, knobbly knuckles and protruding network of bluish veins, sliding over pronounced tendons. He then gazed at his own hand and how different it was, how it still had that boyish smoothness to it, how the fingers curled like the legs of a horrific, white spider. There seemed to be no strength, only brittle grace.

Seto sighed and parted his lips, wishing the drizzle would become a heavy rain and wash the filth from his face and body away. Roland wrapped his other hand around Seto's fingers and bowed his head, his breath washing over his knees in great, misty gusts. Seto sniffed and grimaced, arching as a fresh wave of pain scraped its jagged razor blade all over his broken body. Roland looked up, catching the blue glint of his master's eye.

'Wha–what happened to C-C-' Seto faltered and cried out; the frosty night had stripped his pain threshold to the bone. The new heavier raindrops did not come as the cleansing blessing that he'd previously craved but instead as a torrent of tiny bullets, falling ruthlessly all over him.

Finally he managed to compose himself a little, panting as though he'd just completed an uphill marathon. He hacked violently; thick, slimy blood seeped from his mouth. Roland quickly hooked an arm around his neck, sitting him up against his chest. Seto spat some filth over himself and found his voice once more. He rolled his eyes up to his faithful guard's face.

'What happened to Campion?'

Roland's lip quivered. He turned away.

* * *

_Seto hopped up the grey stone steps with ease and determination. It was evident now that the whole of today's enterprise had been a complete waste of time and he wanted Suits One and Two to get back to the limousine immediately so they could return to Headquarters. _

_Seto didn't wait for Roland and Campion to cover him. He strode into the dark manor boldly, calling out. _

'_We're leaving! I don't care if you've found anything interesting, I want to get back to my damned office and do something damned useful before the whole damn day is wasted! I'm going t–'_

_Once again there was a hand on his shoulder, stronger and pushier this time. Seto threw a deadly glare behind him. It was Roland. _

'_Roland! You know I hate it when people grab me!'_

'_Sir–' Seto frowned and cocked his head; Roland's tone was stern. 'I think you should wait outside, down the steps.' _

_Seto felt himself concede, almost against his own will. He snarled at Roland's back. He detested the strange, barely discernible power the man held over him, like he was a reluctantly accepted uncle. Roland was one of the few people that Seto could not stand to be made or act a fool in front of. He trotted down the flight of stone steps, hissing all the way and kicked childishly at the gravel as he trudged over to an upturned flower urn of stone and propped himself upon it. He huffed dramatically. _

'_Roland can be such a cunt sometimes,' he mused venomously._

_He sat on his temporary throne as proudly as though it was made of gold, even though it was anything but a kingly seat; the large urn was severely moss stained and cracked and the flowers from within were spilt and long dead. Nonetheless he crossed his legs, sat with a smart rigid spine and folded his long arms across his chest as though he was at a meeting, surveying his newest batch of victims. He gazed disdainfully as Campion, now shade-less and gun-bearing, heading around the side of the building with exaggerated stealth. _

'_Maybe he's looking for booby-traps and ninja assassins,' Seto thought nastily. 'Well, being my bodyguard certainly is one of the best jobs anyone could hope to land, but it certainly isn't _that_ exciting…'_

* * *

'Roland? What happened to him?'

Seto could feel something pulling at his insides relentlessly. It wasn't a physical thing, it wasn't the stab wound in his stomach but instead a strange, ghastly feeling_. _He grimaced. He was feeling something that he recognised as a weakness. He only ever felt or showed this thing around the one person who he didn't have to be a steel-edged businessman for, the one person who wouldn't lose respect for him or see an overthrow opportunity in his lesser shown demeanors. Mokuba's little pointed face flashed across his mind. He was feeling that feeling when Mokuba cried or when he had unintentionally hurt or offended him. The thing was nibbling away at his already frayed innards like a monstrous feral rat, watching him with its beady eyes as it slowly devoured.

Seto's eyes widened as his chest constricted.

_I feel… guilty._

'P-please Roland!' he nearly begged, choking on a globule of thick blood. 'Where is Campion?'

'Sir –' Roland turned back to look at him. The brief bout of heavy rain had washed the blood off his face which was now glowing eerily in the blue lights of the limo. 'I did find him but… by the time I got to him…' He did not continue. Seto's chin trembled.

'He's not… Roland he's not – _dead _is he?' he whispered, horrified.

'No! Sir, no he's not dead.' Roland spun his head round, glancing at _K4IBA1_ as though to make sure it was still there. 'He's in the limo now sir, but I'm not sure he'll make it through the night.' Roland's voice shuddered as he drew breath. 'Mr Kaiba sir, he was so eager. He was just trying to please…' Roland trailed off again, staring at a point on the wet tarmac by his shoe. Seto could only gawk at him. The Guilt Rat had just taken a sizeable chunk out of his entrails and he could hear it chewing loudly and sloppily. Suddenly Roland seemed to wake from his trance. 'I'm afraid he bled all over the limo seats sir… I know you especially ordered the _K4IBA1_ with blue leather. It's okay, I'll organise for it to be gutted and refurbished when we get back…'

Seto snorted, but not before flinching Roland's choice of words and rolled his matted head back against Roland's chest.

'Scrap _K4IBA1_ when we get back Roland – I'll never be able to travel in it again after tonight. I'll get a whole new one, and I'll give it a better name.' He saw the ghost of a smile flicker across faithful Roland's face, and decided to amuse him some more. 'We'll call the new limo _Randy Spendlove.'_

Roland gaped at him from above. 'Are you planning to use the new limo for something more than just getting to and from meetings, Mr Kaiba sir?'

Seto chuckled, only to curl up in agony, coughing violently. His hands were shaking madly as they grasped at his cracked ribs and punctured belly in an attempt to claw the pain away. Roland kept his firm arm around Seto's shoulders, distress clear in the harsh lines of his face.

'I want to get in the limo now, Roland.'

'Of course, sir! I've laid Campion across one of the back seats, you can go opposite–'

'No!' choked Seto. 'No, I want to sit in the front with you.'

'But Mr Kaiba sir, you are seriously injured, you must lay flat…'

'Roland just because I'm in a weakened, pathetic state right now and I'm covered in blood and you obviously want to do all you can to look after me doesn't mean you can start disobeying me.'

The sea-green haired man looked aghast, if not a little hurt by this bluntness. But Seto was fighting a smirk; the corners of his cracked and bloodied lips were quivering in a sly smile. Roland grinned in relief.

'I really do want to sit in the front with you though.'

Roland made an exasperated noise and rolled his eyes. None other than him and Mokuba could get away with rolling their eyes at the great Seto Kaiba.

'_Fine,_ sir. But I'm going to check and dress your injuries first, and I'll do _that_ in the back where you can lay flat.'

Seto huffed but made no attempt to go against the suggestion. Roland gingerly unbent his master's arm from where it was curled across his thin chest. For this he received a torrent of hisses but he was not deterred. He could easily feel that the bones in this arm weren't all where they were meant to be. Grimacing as he heard things click and pop under the pale skin he gently returned the limb to its former position, deciding that to hook it around his neck in order to lift Seto was a bad idea. Instead he leant over, scooped one arm under Seto's neck, the other under his knees, and gently lifted him.

Seto gasped at the cracking of his kinked vertebrae, wriggling slightly as Roland shifted his weight.

'You seem to making things more complex than they have to be' he grumbled.

Roland merely shushed him like a cross mother hen before awkwardly bending to open the rear door of _K4IBA1. _Seto soon found himself lying flat on the long seat in the back of his once beloved limousine. His nose was already stuffed with his own congealed blood but he felt the stench inside the car nearly drown him. Groaning with pain he twisted his head sideways to glance over at Campion who lay unconscious opposite him and nearly gagged.

* * *

_Seto had made it a skill of his to 'zone out' to the degree when he couldn't feel time passing anymore. It helped him get through all those terribly boring days in the office. When he was on top form he could make a whole hour feel like five minutes. By now he had been sitting on the urn for nearly thirty minutes and had barely realised it. He blinked at his watch and frowned. This was starting to get ridiculous. Did all his employees have a bet on today to see how much they could annoy him? Sighing dramatically he left his seat and strolled towards the portico steps. _

_Seto was a man of the city, he owned and worked in the tallest building in Domino and lived on the largest estate. Bustle was inevitably a part of his life, a terrible din was the natural soundtrack to his existence. Out here in the country he could not help but feel awfully exposed. A niggling hint of agoraphobia was taking him in this place where usually only the animals pierced the silent void, but Seto couldn't hear a single bird or insect. Further unnerved he strained his ears. In this dreary grey portion of the day he could only hear the leaves and boughs of trees conversing and the sound of himself trudging over gravel. He listened for any other sound that he would recognise but he heard none._

_He had reached the door. He barely remembered walking up the stone flight of stairs. If something had gone terribly wrong, if this really was a trap, would it be wise to call out for his men? Was it prudent to even stand on the doorsill of potential danger? _

_It was too much for him; he was smart but still green horned. _

'_Roland?' _

_He did his best to keep the panic from his shout. _

'_Where the hell have you all got to? You answer to your boss when he calls you! I'll fire the lot of you!' _

_He stood there waiting, fully expecting and wholly wishing for the sound of four pairs of feet thundering to his side, a steady stream of gruff apologies rolling over him. But they did not come. His threat of firing had not worked and now he wasn't sure what to do. Was not the concept of having ones life ruined by Seto Kaiba enough to shift oneself into gear?_

_Apparently not today, which meant that something had gone awfully wrong._

_Steeling himself for the unknown Seto entered the darkness of the manor. _

* * *

**Author's Note:** Please review! I looooooove feedback :)


	2. Exit

**Author's Note:** Originally posted 17 March 2008. 5 August 2008 – revised version. I've only corrected some passages of description and general spelling and grammar mistakes to make for a better and more mature piece. If you've read this before and are reading it again you probably won't notice any differences.

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim.

**Warnings:** Swearing and mild violence.

**Summary:** _For years Seto has been paying men to die for him. It is not until he lies half dead in the road that he begins to realise this and what it actually means to him. _

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Exit**

'My God Roland! What happened to him?'

Roland grunted as he lifted a heavy first aid kit from a hidden compartment beneath the long seat. He paused, panting, his fatigue settling in.

'I don't know what happened exactly, sir,' he said breathlessly. 'I found him like that… I had to drag him out from where he was being kept.' Roland wiped the gritty sweat from his brow. 'He's been unconscious since I found him, but he is alive, sir.'

Seto's eyes made a wavering trail over Campion's bloody form. He had lost all his garments save his torn black trousers which were steeped in piss and blood. One arm had been brutally hacked off just below the elbow. Seto could see a pale bone amidst the glistening red flesh and had to turn away, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe again. He remembered the room that he had awoken in and the awful things he saw; he could very well imagine the sort of situation that Roland had found Campion in.

'Where did you find him, Roland?' he asked in a quivering voice, hissing as his bodyguard peeled the fabric of his shirt away from the crusting wound in his stomach. He swore loudly as Roland doused the puncture in…

'_Vodka?'_

Roland nodded grimly, biting his lip.

'Don't ask me who re-packed the kit sir, because we're definitely not meant to have vodka in there…'

'Am I employing an alcoholic or what?' he growled through gritted teeth.

'Calm down, sir'.

Seto's head flopped back on the seat as Roland began to apply gauze pads to his wound.

'It won't stop bleeding, sir…'

'You didn't answer my question.'

'Sorry?'

'Where did you find Campion? What did they do with him?' A hint of desperation snuck into his voice, his large blue eyes shimmered in the dim interior lights.

Roland looked at him deeply, frowning. Seto wasn't used to seeing straight into the man's eyes, he always wore sunshades. He wondered if that night was the first time he had ever seen Roland's eyes and for a brief second he found himself greatly distracted by the mint green hue. He took a shaky breath.

'He was on a lower level, in the basement actually.'

Seto blinked, waiting for more.

'They took me to the upper levels,' he said plainly, not enjoying Roland's silence. 'How was he being restrained when you found him?'

Roland was breathing heavily through his nose, not at all wanting to speak. He knew that as soon as they reached civilization again the entirety of the nights events would have to be profiled and analysed by the authorities and that each of them would have to relive their night of horror, more than once most likely. He didn't feel like describing what he had seen so soon after it had happened.

'He was on a meat hook,' he murmured softly. He ceased his medical toil for a moment to rest his weary hands on his knees.

Seto blinked.

'A meat hook?'

* * *

_Seto glanced about. The entrance hall was large and gloomy, with a dark polished floor and moss green wallpaper. To his left, three closed doors, in front of him at the end of a narrow corridor was another door, slightly ajar and to his right an un-used, dusty staircase spiraling into the darkness. He saw footprints in the dust, but they stopped a few steps up and came back down. For now the door ahead of him seemed the best place to start his search. From the depths of his suit he pulled out his own discreet firearm._

_He edged slowly towards the door before him, every limb stringed tightly with apprehension. He tried to imagine what was behind it, he tried to prepare himself, but was frightened when he realised that he didn't want to take another step forward. He was only a pace away, he could easily kick the door open with a long leg and quickly have his weapon at the ready, but the situation was suddenly beheaded and flung akimbo._

_CRASH!_

_Behind Seto one of the three doors was violently swung open. He barely had time to register the cause of the noise before a dark hulking figure lurched towards him. He let out a panicked shout and wasted a gunshot into the wall beside him, flinching unexpectedly at the recoil. _

_Seto stood frozen and blinking; before him loomed an ominous man who, despite his crooked stoop, looked down upon him from a foot or so above. In the darkness all he could see of the man's face was a faint glint in his eyes. _

_In a flash of monstrous yellow teeth Seto was reduced to screams of pain_

* * *

'A meat hook, Roland?'

'They hung him up on one sir, by his arm. I had to cut it off'.

Seto felt sick to his stomach and his flesh became cold. He felt a horrid, familiar swirling inside him, his tongue tightened and his mouth filled with water. He struggled to lean over the seat.

'Roland I think I'm going to be sick –'

Roland stuttered and fussed around, looking for something to put under his master's face, but there was very little to be found within the confines of the limousine. In desperation he flung the contents of the first aid kit across the seat and shoved this box on the floor by Seto's head just in time.

Seto convulsed, his bones clicking, and spilled himself into the tub. Roland turned away, wrinkling his nose as the curds-and-whey vomit made a nauseating _splat_ against the plastic. He supposed there was very little for his master to bring up, and felt a strange pang as Seto continued to wretch emptily, his face twisted with pain.

Finally he was done and slumped back onto his seat, panting and whimpering. Silently Roland reached over to take the tub, intending to throw the contents out the door into the heavy rain. He saw blood mingling with the bile and made a conclusion about Seto's injuries. With a clenched jaw he flung the filth into the rain and set the tub outside the door to let it wash out. He shifted back to where he was knelt before and peered closely over Seto's face, which was now ashen and shone with sweat. His lips were coated with slimy vomit and some trickled out of the corner of his mouth and into his hair. Roland wiped him clean with his sleeve, a muscle in his cheek ticking madly. Seto seemed utterly dazed, he was barely conscious.

'Mr Kaiba?'

Seto's heavily lidded eyes were glazed. He didn't respond.

'Seto?'

* * *

_Seto awoke somewhere dark and rancid. He was aware that he was in a confined space and his senses went into overdrive. He went to plant his hands firmly on either side of him but found that he could barely move his arms. He kicked out and shot a hand above him and on every side he was met with a wall. Panic quickly overtook him and he began to breathe in heavily, only to make himself gag on the foul air. He paused, wincing as something jabbed into his spine. He shifted; there was something else under his leg. Dreading what it might be he snaked a hand down to investigate. He grasped it at fumbled a while. When he realised what he was lying on top of he opened his mouth to scream, but terror stole his voice._

_In a flurry of animalistic fear he pounded on the walls beside him, his desire for escape so great that he truly believed that he could break through anything. Suddenly he fell still and eerie to look upon as his ceiling, a lid of what must have been a large container, was sharply lifted open, letting in the bright, bleached light of the day. His mouth was still wide and contorted in a silent scream and his eyes were bulging. A pale face stared down at him from above. It wasn't the same as the one who attacked him in the corridor, who put him out cold and must have locked him in the box. This face was thin and younger and the eyes were black and so large that his irises stood alone in a near-circle of white._

_Seto felt himself trembling; all fear of the severed limbs that he lay upon was completely lost. This face completely engulfed him. He had never felt comfortable with people staring at him, least of all with eyes as wide and penetrating as these. It was as though someone had sucked out the middle of his eyeballs and left a void behind. _

_His distrust of unblinking, staring people developed into a dread of most anything and anyone with big, blank eyes, but strangely Seto felt his wariness drift away. It was the feeling of getting used to something, like the cold side of a pillow against his cheek, or an unfamiliar hand resting on the inside of his thigh._

_Finally the strange creature-boy blinked and Seto blinked back, closing his mouth. He was about to say something when the boy reached a long, spindly hand into the container towards his face. His fingers were an inch from Seto when a larger, meatier hand extended from nowhere behind the boy and plunged into his matted, black hair. Seto was surprised that the boy didn't shriek or even open his mouth to exclaim as he was ruthlessly yanked backwards. Seto pulled himself up to see what was going on, only to be met by the ugly face of the man who had attacked him in the corridor._

_He seemed barely human now that Seto could see him in the natural light that pounded through large windows from behind. He seemed as though he must have suffered from severe burns at some point in his life; his entire face had the plastic sheen of scar tissue, half his nose had been eaten away and his yellow teeth were exposed in a permanent snarl where his lips had melted away. _

_Seto scrambled backwards as the man dived towards him, but a scuffling on the dark, dusty floorboards at the back of the room drew his attention away. The wide-eyed boy had darted towards the oak door, fumbling madly with the wrought iron latch, only to be caught around the scruff of the neck by the man. Seto seized the opportunity to crawl out of the filthy, stinking box whilst the monster was distracted._

_The man screamed into the face of the boy, whose feet dangled in the air as he was lifted. Still he made no noise. The man seemed infuriated and garbled strangely, his rage obvious. As Seto crept to the window he kept a wary watch through the corner of his eye. The man was shaking the boy by his neck like a rag doll, spluttering and snarling like an ape. Seto wondered as he stretched a shaking hand to open the window, who were these people? Why can't they even speak? _

_The window was open! He gave it a push but to his horror the old metal hinges screeched loudly. He heard a thump from the opposite side of the room as the boy was dropped to the floor. Before he had time to even get off his knees and run out of reach the man had him by his hair, dragging him across the floorboards. The man was spitting all manner of nonsense at him amidst bizarre, inhuman shrieks and Seto screamed right back at him, furious that his escape had been foiled. He reached out for the man's leg and with a snarl sunk his teeth in._

_He very quickly regretted his actions as he was flung across the room onto his back, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Without time to even blink he felt a large fist come smashing down into his face. Over and over the hideous man brought his fist down like a sledgehammer, sending Seto's blood splattering this way and that. Finally he stopped, sitting up and panting. Seto thought it would be the end of the assault, but his wishes were in vain. A guttural choke left his lips as a rusty knife plunged deep into his stomach. _

* * *

'Seto!'

Roland had his hands on either side of his master's face and shook him slightly. He sighed when he saw Seto blinking, the haze in his eyes clearing.

'Thank god, sir. I thought you had slipped off, that you wouldn't come back.'

Seto grumbled and knitted his brows together.

'Mmm, I did doze off for a minute there…'

The corners of Roland's lips tweaked, but he couldn't bring himself to smile properly. He let his hand lightly ghost over Seto's cheek as he had when he found him lying in the road. He was cold, his wet clothes probably weren't helping much but Roland daren't to remove them with all the suspected broken bones. He would only worsen things. Instead he contented himself with pushing his fingers into Seto's hair and rubbing the temple with a calloused thumb.

'Sometimes…' he whisperd huskily. Seto lazily opened an eye to look at him. 'Sometimes I wish I had gone to that orphanage, that I had met you and your brother before Gozaburo had.'

Seto frowned.

'I would have adopted you _and_ your brother, and you would have lived with me and my wife and our babies… and be our extra sons.'

Seto saw the flicker of a sad smile on Roland's lips.

'You probably wouldn't have turned out as clever as you are now, but you'd know lots of other things no doubt, like how to ride a horse and birth lambs.'

Roland nestled his other hand into Seto's hair and stared forlornly into his eyes.

'I wish I could go back in time and adopt you, because that's how I love you, like one of my own children.'

Seto pursed his lips in an attempt to hide their quiver, but his eyes betrayed him as tears dribbled out of the corners, falling onto Roland's hands which still cupped either side of his head.

'Roland –'

Ignoring his pain he lifted his arms up and wrapped them around his most faithful servant's neck who leant in and planted a firm kiss on his forehead, the little mustache tickling him.

When the moment had passed, when Roland was sat upright again and Seto's hands had returned to his sides, the rain stopped falling. A tiny spatter of golden dawn had appeared under a dark blanket of cloud on the horizon. The twittering of the early birds sliced neatly through their heads and they both winced.

'Let's go Roland; I'm sure Mokuba is going barmy at our absence. He's going to freak out completely when he sees the state of us…' He cast a quick glance over to Campion. 'Is he still with us?'

Roland leant over and checked the young man's pulse.

'Yes, though faintly. No less than before.'

'Well then, off we go.'

Roland hesitated. 'What about the others, sir? Shouldn't we go back for them?'

'They're dead; I saw their bodies as I made my escape through the house…'

Roland bowed his head, hands fisting into the material of his trousers. 'I suppose they died doing what they were prepared to do. What all four of us were prepared to do for you, actually.'

Seto didn't know what to say. He knew what bodyguards were for, but up until this night all of his near-death experiences were synonymous with his Duel Monsters-related escapades, which he usually went on by himself, though never far off from Yugi and his friends. It was often Yugi who claimed that he had saved his life, but he never really felt like he had brushed so closely past death during those times. Tonight he had taken in the fact that he had for years been paying people to literally die for him, if the situation would ever arise. And now it had. The realisation hit him at the back of the throat like bitter ale and made him queasy.

'Let's get into the front Roland, so we can go home.'

'You should lie down, sir.'

'You already agreed to let me sit in the front!'

'It won't do you any good, sir, you're badly injured!'

'Roland!'

To his utmost frustration Seto saw Roland smiling.

'What's so funny?'

Roland chuckled.

'My youngest daughter, I never let her sit in the front –' he laughed heartily '–and we always argue just like that! Well, sort of…'

Seto stared at him, slightly bemused.

'So are you going to help me into the front?'

'Fine.'

After quite a bit of faffing around, a fair amount of scolding from Roland and an awful lot of swearing from Seto, they were both seated in the front, Roland behind the wheel and Seto in the passenger seat, moodily clutching the blanket that had been wrapped around him.

'Hurry up Roland; I want to get as far away from this place as possible. And as quickly as possible too, I want to see Mokuba.'

_K4IBA1_ rumbled to a start and the heating blasted out. Seto fiddled with the fans to direct the warm air towards him. He pressed a few buttons below that and some music began to play.

'_I won't let you smother it! I won't let your muuurder it! Our time is ruuuuuunning out! Our time is run–'_

'No.'

With wide eyes Seto quickly changed the track to something much gentler, and leant back into the plush leather, soaking up the brightening sunrise and the warmth. Soon Roland was zooming along the country road at a satisfying, unlawful speed, further and further away from their awful nightmare. He slowed down got navigate a spate of potholes and Seto felt a strange rush as he saw a sika stag dart through the gold morning mist. In the back of the limo something stirred and whimpered. Seto opened the slat that divided the driver's area to the seating in the back. Campion had awoken and was shivering with shock as he gazed in horror at his arm, or lack thereof.

'Hey Campion, it's okay. We're on our way home.'

Campion stared up at Seto with wide eyes, not certain whether he was more shocked by his absent limb or the soft smile on his masters face.

'We'll be there in a few hours, think you can hold on?'

Campion nodded silently.

'Good. I'll leave this open.' And he turned back to faced the front, blinking calming as the country flickered by.

He felt a sudden jolt as a familiar pale face and shock of black hair shot by the window.

'STOP!'

* * *

**Author's Note: **Cliffhanger thing! This concludes _Open Ether._ The creepy boy appears again in _Siphon_ and my latest fic _Take Me To The Water. _Neither of these are strictly sequels but they do consider the events in previously written fics such as this, _Brown Paper Parcel_ and _Chocolate Milk_ as facts.

Name that tune! Seto heard _'Time__ Is Running Out' _by MUSE when he switched on the radio.

... and please review! I love feedback!


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